


A stainless frame

by blakefancier



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake's life is not a fairytale; she did not wake up one morning to find herself a woman.  As with everything in her life, she had to struggle and fight for her metamorphosis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A stainless frame

Blake sets the biscuits on the table, pours a cup of tea--two lumps of sugar, a splash of milk-- and settles into her chair. The garden is beautiful this time of year; it is a riot of colours and smells. She loves spending days out among her flowers and vegetables-- they are her pride and joy.

Her life is not a fairytale; she did not wake up one morning to find herself a woman. As with everything in her life, she had to struggle and fight for her metamorphosis.

But now the time for fighting has come to an end and she is content. The monster has been defeated and the people are free. She is at peace with the galaxy.

She sips her tea and eats a biscuit.

*****

In the beginning, Blake wore her hair long. But the curls made it too much of an annoyance. She doesn't want to spend longer than five minutes brushing her hair.

She doesn't bother with make up either, well, except for lipstick and a bit of mascara. There's no one she wants to impress. She is alone. And sometimes, she is lonely.

But only sometimes.

****

Blake is not the hero of her own story. Nor is she a warrior or a princess. She's never owned a suit of armor. She knows that the stories lie; she'll never find a Prince Charming, no one will mould her an Enkidu.

When she's lonely and randy, she dresses up, flies to one of the mainland domes, goes to a bar, and lets a stranger chat her up. They'll fuck in the alley-- hungry mouths and hot hands, her wet cunt and his hard cock. Afterward, she'll go home, shower, and content, will drift off to sleep.

*****

She thinks that she is safe, so she relaxes. She starts going to bars closer to home, taking the short trip into London dome. No one recognizes her, and she recognizes no one—until he comes in. Alone, of course, he was always alone. But that was his choice, though he might say otherwise. The lines around his mouth and eyes are deep, harsh-looking, and his hair is shot with grey. But his eyes are the same: dark and piercing.

He surveys the room and she clenches her hand around the glass she holding. She hopes… Well, she doesn't know what she hopes, but whatever it is, it's probably not wise. Then he walks over to her and she thinks that maybe her heart will pound right out of her chest. But it doesn't and he leans against the bar and smiles.

It hurts to see that smile, to know that it's not for *her,* but for some stranger.

"May I buy you a drink?"

Blake wonders if she is having a nightmare. She opens her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but then she looks into his face. She sees that the smile does not reach his eyes—he's going through the motions.

"Yes, all right. I'll have another whisky."

Avon gestures to the bartender and orders her another drink. He sits next to her, watching her a moment. "Do you come here often?"

Her eyes widen and she coughs to cover her laughter. When she looks back at Avon, he has a sardonic look on his face. She opens her mouth to apologize but he shakes his head.

"That was particularly bad, wasn't it?"

Blake smiles and reaches out to touch Avon's hand. "It wasn't too bad. But then I get the feeling you don't do this very often."

He looks at her hand as if it's the most amazing thing in the world. She almost pulls away, but then he smiles and his eyes light up. "No, not often. Would you like to sit at one of the tables?"

Before she can stop herself, she says yes.

They don't fuck. But he takes her home in his private vehicle, walks her to her door, and he kisses her gently on the mouth. Then before she can invite him in, he calls her beautiful and walks back to his transport.

*****

Blake sets down the tray of sandwiches and takes her seat. She smiles at the man sitting across from her; Avon looks very much out of place. He is a shadow in her garden of colours.

"Did I thank you for bringing back my scarf?" She has a sip of tea.

"Yes, before you invited me in for lunch." Avon turns the cup in his hands and stares down into the hot liquid.

"Don't worry, I didn't poison it." She takes the cup from his hands and has a sip. She makes a face. "Are you sure you don't want some sugar?"

"I'm sure." He takes the cup back and sets it down on the saucer. He doesn't say anything for a long while. "I'm not very good at this."

"Drinking tea?"

Avon tenses and she immediately regrets teasing him. It's been a long time; she's forgotten how to speak to him.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I can see that it's difficult. But then, most things are during the light of day. I like you, if that helps."

Her words make him visibly relax.

"I'm a little surprised you're here." She takes a sandwich and places it in his hand—he looks at it as if he doesn't know what to do with it. She takes another one and begins to eat.

"Why is that?"

She swallows the food in her mouth and has a sip of tea. "You're a rich and powerful man, Mr. Avon. And I'm no one."

"Hardly no one, Ms. Newman. You were a soldier in the rebel army. You were at the Battle of Tenai. You fought during the Last Stand here on Earth."

"Ah. So you did a background check." She pours herself more tea.

"Does that offend you?" The tenseness is back again.

She reaches out and lays her hand on Avon's. Then she smiles at him and strokes his knuckles with her thumb. "Of course it doesn't. I was expecting it, actually. As I said, you're a rich and powerful man, Mr. Avon. You were crucial in the defeat of the Federation, you helped to reconstruct the new government, and now you're one of leading businessmen in the galaxy. If I were in your place, I would have done the same."

Avon tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "You are a strange woman."

"Yes. Now are you going to eat that sandwich? I went through a lot of trouble to make you lunch."

"Actually, I'm not very hungry."

"But you're still going to eat. You don't want to offend me."

Avon gives her a sardonic smile. "No, of course not."

*****

She does not live from meeting to meeting. Avon is not her world, is not her existence. But when he calls, and he does with an astounding frequency, her heart pounds and her hands sweat, and she wonders how she could be such a fool.

They go to dinner, they go dancing, she tells him about her childhood, he tells her about Anna. Their kisses take on a life of their own, leaving her panting and wet. But the question in his eyes is always met with a goodbye. He takes her rejections with grace, but eventually she will have to tell him the secret that will end this affair.

*****

They walk through Blake's garden, their hands fitting together snugly, whilst she talks about her plants. "The roses were the most difficult to grow. Even now they take up most of my time. But I don't mind. Don't you just love the way they smell?"

"Why do you live out here, Regina?"

She pretends not to understand the question. She plucks a rose and strokes it across his lips. "I don't live in my garden."

"You don't have to live Outside. You could have a garden inside the dome." He leads her to her favourite bench; she sits and he settles next to her.

"Not like this." She looks at Avon and touches his cheek. "I lived the first thirty-three years of my life in the domes. But I didn't know true freedom until I left. Things are so much more vibrant Outside. I feel more alive. Do you understand?"

"No." Avon takes her hand and kisses her palm. "But I don't need to."

She laughs softly and curls her fingers against his lips. "That doesn't sound like Kerr Avon to me."

"Well, now, perhaps you don't know me as well as you thought." He captures one of her fingers between his teeth and sucks on it gently.

Blake's breath catches in her throat and she feels that familiar tightening in her belly. "Perhaps," she whispers.

He draws her close and kisses her. His lips are soft; at first he merely brushes them against her mouth, coaxing her slowly into the kiss. She closes her eyes and moans, leaning into him, ignoring the voice in her head telling her that she's being an idiot. When she is lost, he sweeps his tongue over her bottom lip and amazes her with his gentleness. His hands rest on her hips before moving up to cup her breasts.

She moans louder, her nipples tightening into aching nubs as Avon pinches and pulls at them through her shirt.

He murmurs against her mouth, "I want you, Gina."

Before she can stop herself, she says, yes. Then Avon is lifting up her skirt and sliding a hand underneath. And her cunt is aching and wet with need.

Avon whispers her name over and over again. "I want to make love to you."

But then she remembers, remembers why they can't. She pushes him away, jumping to her feet and putting some space between them. "No. No, we can't."

This time, Avon is not deterred. He follows her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he kisses her mouth. "Why not? I know you want me. You do want me, don't you?"

"I do. You know I do. But you have to stop!" She shoves him away. "We can't. We can't have sex."

"Damn it! Will you stop playing games!" Avon glares at her, his chest heaving.

"I'm not. Kerr, I'm not playing games." Blake takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "There are things you don't know about me. Things you have to know before I can have sex with you. Secrets I have to tell you."

He shakes his head, frowning. "What sort of things? And if they're important, why haven't you mentioned them before?"

"Because I was afraid. I knew that once I told you, our relationship would be over."

Avon reaches out and cups her face. "What could be so horrible?"

Blake pulls away from Avon and walks back to the bench. She sits, clasps her hands in her lap, and stares at them. "Ten years ago I had an operation. A gender reassignment operation."

"I don't understand." Avon's voice is soft, confused.

She looks up at him. "I was born a man. Well, my body was male, even if my mind thought it should be otherwise."

"I… I don't care. Gina, you know I'm bisexual. It doesn't matter to me what gender you are or were."

"That's not my secret." Her hands tremble violently and so she clasps them together even tighter. "It's who I was before I became Regina."

Avon sits next to her and covers her hands with his. "Were you Federation?"

"No. Though if would be easier if I had been." She briefly closes her eyes, then turns to Avon. "It's me, Kerr. It's Blake."

Avon pulls his hand away and gets to his feet. His eyes are cold and hard—she hasn't seen that look in them in years. "That's not funny!"

"It's not meant to be funny. It's true."

"Roj Blake is dead," he says, his voice flat. "He disappeared a year after the last battle. It was determined that he was murdered by one of the pro-Federation groups."

Yes, Blake remembers reading about the investigation. It was the last thing Avon did for the new government before going into business for himself.

"I know. But they didn't kill him, I did." Avon didn't believe her, she could see it in his eyes, in the way he held himself. He turned to go and she knew this was her last chance. "Avon, I have always trusted you. From the very beginning."

Avon stops, his body tense, his hands slowly curling into fists. She watches, her heart pounding in her chest, as he fits all the pieces together. When he whirls around, his face is bright red and twisted in fury.

"You bastard," he hisses. "You… We looked for you! We… You were *mourned.*"

"I know and I'm sorry about that. But I wasn't needed anymore. And with the Federation gone, I could finally concentrate on what I wanted. Avalon had everything under control." She almost goes to him, but the look on his face stops her.

"I spent the past eleven years trying to get out from under your legend. Trying to finally untangle my life from yours. But you couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Was it great fun, Blake? Did you enjoy making a fool out of me?"

"I didn't plan this! You know I didn't plan this. Avon, when you walked into that bar, I was terrified. I didn't—"

"Shut up! Don't you say another word." Avon sneers. "You disgust me."

"Kerr, don't do this. Please, don't do this."

"Stay away from me. If you come near me again, I'll finish what I started fifteen years ago."

Blake puts a hand to her belly at the memory of Gauda Prime and when Avon leaves, she doesn't follow him. As she stands in the garden, her chest aching, her eyes burning, she reminds herself that she expected such a response from Avon.

It doesn't help.

*****

Blake spends the next week working herself into exhaustion before she decides that she's had enough. She takes a transport to Avon's flat and argues her way through the door—the housekeeper tries to keep her out, but the poor man doesn't know who he is dealing with.

She waits for him in his den, waits for hours—she doesn't mind, the war taught her patience. It's dark when he finally stumbles into the room; she can see the exhaustion in the way he carries himself.

He falters slightly when he sees her, but quickly regains his composure. "So that's why the housekeeper resigned." When she doesn't respond, he continues. "What do you want..., Blake."

She notices the verbal stumble and it gives her hope. "I want to talk. Without threats or raised voices."

"When have we ever managed that?"

"I thought we managed rather well these past few months." Blake gets to her feet and takes a few steps towards Avon. "I know you're angry, and you have right to be. I should have told you, but… It was so nice to talk to you, to put aside all those years of animosity and anger. To forget all the mistakes that were made. Wasn't it nice, Avon? Wasn't it nice to get to know each other?"

Avon spins around to face Blake, his teeth clenched. "The problem with that, Blake, is that you already knew me."

"That's not true. I didn't know you, not at all. I knew facts, Avon, and I knew what you let me know." She takes another step forward. "And that wasn't much at all. But I wasn't very forthcoming either, was I? Maybe if I had been, you would have realized it was me."

Avon looks away, discomfort evident on his face.

Blake reaches out at strokes his face, running her fingers over his lips. "I wanted another chance with you. To be with you, the way I always wanted to be with you. I wanted… I want… you."

"What if I told you that was impossible?" he whispers.

"I'd tell you that once you said defeating the Federation was impossible. Yet, here we are." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I'm not Anna. I didn't hide my identity for some nefarious purpose. This is who I am now; I'm Regina. Who I was before… he's gone. He's a story, a legend, and that's where he belongs."

Avon closes his eyes and shakes his head. "He's not gone. Not to me."

She cups Avon's face and kisses him gently. Then she says softly, "Do you want me to be him? Is that what you want?"

"I don't--" Avon suddenly pulls away and opens his eyes; there's still anger there, coldness. "I want to fuck you."

Blake tries not to be disappointed. After all, she knew this was a possibility, she'd always known. And it isn't the first time she's been rejected. "All right."

He grins at her, one of the grins he always uses to provoke, to anger. Then he turns and stalks out of the room.

She knows she should leave, gather her things and walk out the door. But when it came to Avon, she couldn't walk away, even when she knew it was going to be a disaster. After a moment, she follows Avon to the bedroom.

Avon is undressing and so she follows suit. When she's naked, she slips under the sheets—silk, she not surprised—and stares up at the ceiling. A moment later, Avon slips into bed and lies on top of her. She reaches up to touch his face, but he scowls and so she lets her hand drop.

He shifts slightly, using a knee to part her thighs, then begins to push into her. She closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip—she's dry and it hurts. After a moment, he stops and tries again. This time, she can't stop the small cry that escapes her lips. He curses and pulls back.

She opens her eyes when nothing happens and when she reaches out this time, he lets her touch his face. He looks so… lonely. She cups his face and pulls him down for a kiss. When their lips touch, she feels his fingers against her cunt, lightly stroking the folds, teasing her clit. She gasps against his mouth and he deepens the kiss, sucking the sounds from her.

Blake murmurs softly as arousal warms her belly and tightens her nipples. She relaxes against the bed and spreads her legs, her cunt becoming wet.

Avon begins kissing her breasts, licking and sucking at her nipples until she's moaning and pushing against his mouth. His fingers are inside her now, thumb working at her clit. She slides her fingers into his hair and tries to memorize as much as she can of the moment, but the pleasure keeps getting in the way.

She moans his name, her hips working as she gets closer to orgasm. Then he's pinching her clit and she's crying out, her body trembling violently as she's pushed over the edge. But Avon doesn't stop working her, and now he's kissing down her body He pauses when he reaches the scars on her belly and she tenses slightly, hoping he can move past the reminder. She needn't have worried; he kisses them tenderly before moving lower and licking between her legs.

He makes her come several times before taking her.

Afterward, he settles next to her on the bed, his toes brushing against her ankle. "You still have the scars."

She turns towards him and lays an arm over his waist. "Yes."

"Why?"

"They weren't important enough to remove."

He stares at her for a long moment, then rests his hand on her arm. She falls asleep to his fingers stroking the inner skin of her elbow.

*****

When Blake awakes the next morning, Avon is gone. It does not surprise her. She showers and dresses, and before she heads home, she leaves her scarf on his pillow.

This isn't a fairytale, not even close, but she doesn't mind. What she and Avon have is more exciting.


End file.
